In a new land
by Jeane De Clission
Summary: Stiles left Beacon Hills during the summer to care for his ailing old aunt in Atlanta, only when she passes he can't bring himself to come back, after all it's not like they need him there. Then the world goes to hell and he finds himself attached to a certain group that becomes family. Then the radio crackles out a voice, a voice he would know like it was his own. Not Slash guys.
1. Hunting

"I did not sign up for this shit." Stiles grunted as he dragged another undead body into the pile and Daryl gave a grunt in agreement and shifted the crossbow over his shoulder. "does that hurt?" because it looks heavy, it looks like it hurts sometimes the way it bites into Daryl's shoulder. "does that?" Daryl nodded at the Bat made back in Beacon Hills for the alpha fight, before he moved to Atlanta for the summer to stay with his ailing aunt, before the world went to hell in a handbasket. It's long and curved made of a mesh of steel and ash wood and long wicked bone spikes made from one of the alphas (a ritual type thing that Peter had suggested, but then Peter didn't always have Stiles' best intrest at heart.) It's slung across his back with a type of holster and a few of the spikes are high enough up that they dig in a little. "touche." "That's enough." Daryl finally backs away cracking his back as he does and Stiles follows and sighs "this is disgusting." he mutters under his breath but he leans down and flips open his lighter anyways catching first rotted clothes and then rotted skin on fire. He snaps the lighter shut and thinks about the few cartons of cigerettes hidden away in the side of his duffle bag and pats absently at his shirt pocket for the last one from his pack. Smoking was something he'd picked up quickly after the apocolypse. Daryl plucked it easily from his lips and took a long drag "c'mon, we got dinner to find." and he drops the half smoked cigerette crunching it under his boot and Stiles sighs dejectedly while Daryl readies his crossbow impatiently.

It hadn't been long after his aunt passed that he'd found his way to a bar and an under the table job where he cleans while the 'less drunk' crowd menders around. Daryl's there during the 'less drunk' time to pick up Merle from the 'more drunk' time' and Daryl is pretty awesome for all intents and purpose, he's hilarious and his dry humour is enough to make Stiles snicker into dirty wash clothes on accident and make him forget that he's a failure as a son, that he's killed three people and aided in the death of a fourth. Even with the alpha's coming to kill them all they were still human and Stiles still slit ones throat and beat two more with his Bat and even if Peter had come back, he had still been dead. Not only is Daryl funny, he seems to actually like Stiles' own sense of humour and he takes him under his proverbial wing, he even takes him hunting when he goes and Stiles gets damned good with a gun, not that he wasn't already, he is a sheriff's child. Still handling a weapon makes him think of the Bat and he has to dislodge that thought.

Stiles rolls his eyes and readies his own slightly pitiful bow and tugs an arrow from the small quiver half crushed under the weight of his Bat. Daryl doesn't wait, he knows Stiles can keep up and he knows if Stiles decides not to keep up that he'll be ok on his own. Still Stiles follows with silent feet and shadows Daryl.

When Merle settles into being around another "annoying little skittish bastard." he's not actually as horrible as he seems to outsiders, he does seem to call the shots, but when Daryl pretty much decides that Stiles is the brother they were missing, well Merle just agrees and leaves it at that, and it's not that Stiles doesn't realizes he's slowly morphing into a smaller paler and less buff Daryl, it's just that it's so gradual he doesn't even notice it until he wakes up with a tattoo of a fucking squirrel splayed across his abs (he does have abs he just doesn't run around with out a damn shirt all the time.) and Daryl is laughing his ass off with a bottle of Southern Comfort in the corner. Then he takes stock of his life, he's running around Atlanta on a little black motorcycle Merle 'acquires' for him, he's switched to dark solid clothes and his jeans are tighter, they have more holes to, and he's got mud stained work boots and he's learning how to shoot a bow and arrow and he's let his hair grow out and shaggy and he can't help but be glad because he doesn't want to be Stiles any more, he wants to be like Daryl, to be confident and calm and to have his unfailing loyalty returned for once. Then the world goes to shit. His biggest regret is never calling his dad to tell him his aunt died.

He catches sight of a squirrel and his stomach twinges when he brings it down and Daryl smirks like he knows what Stiles is thinking, the bastard more than likely does to. "We can't keep to this area much longer, it's almost cleared out." Stiles' voice cuts through the silence and Daryl gives a nod crossbow jerking up and an arrow is flying in an almost absent minded way. A rabbit joins the squirrel. "Rick ain't right in the head yet." and that means more coming from Daryl than anyone else, that means that until Rick is back on track they aren't going anywhere, it means that they'll scrounge and go out further and further until they find food because Daryl is loyal to Rick and Stiles is loyal to Daryl. After that there's silence and three more squirrels and a low flying sparrow join the others and they head back just as it starts to get dark. The Prision looms in the distance and Stiles can hear dragging feet and low grunts not to far away. "how sad is it that I know we're home when we hear walkers?" he hisses and Daryl snorts and cuffs him lightly across the head.

There's silence in the cell when Glenn let's them in and he whispers about a radio but Stiles can't find it in him to be excited, they had a radio before and sure they got Rick, but Rick's kind of a once in a lifetime deal and he doubts it will happen again. So he beds himself down next to where Daryl's keeping watch and let's the sound of little Judith wash over him.


	2. Can you?

Static wakes him, it crackles across the air and a voice, a voice as familiar as his own washes over his ears and he bolts upright and knocks into Daryl and his hand clamps down on Stiles' wrist tight enough that his bones creak together. Daryl's always brute force that doesn't know what it's doing. "Daryl." he breathes as Rick talks to fast to understand and the voice of one Officer John Stilinski talks slow and measured in a way Stiles heard growing up when he had a scratched knee. "Daryl that's my dad." Stiles skitters up as best he can with Daryl still holding him in place and he knows there's going to be deep bruises there to match the ones on his other wrist and his shoulder but he's moving to fast to care. "Rick, Rick you have to let me talk that's my dad!" he grabbed for the radio and rolled against Daryl's side. "Dad! dad it's Stiles over." and there's a fine tremble in his voice. A moment of crackling silence makes his gut twist and then "Stiles? Stiles are you alright? you aren't hurt are you son?" "over" the last bit is croaked and Stiles breathes deeply. "i'm fine is everyone ok dad? Scott? Derek? Lydia? hell Jackson? over" "we haven't lost anyone, Deaton set up a fence made of some kind of wood and it's keeping them away over." a fence, ash, but that didn't make a whole lot of sense, the walkers weren't supernatural, they were scientific. Weren't they? "Nobody?" Daryl's voice is deep and gravelly and he's holding Stiles' hand clenched around the radio and there's a tiny bit of blood welling up but Stiles ignores it. "over." Daryl adds as an afterthought. "who is this? over." and his dad is not happy that's not Stiles' voice over the crackling radio apparently. "Daryl Dixon Stiles is still here, you haven't lost anybody? over." there's a growl there and Stiles' dad has to pick up on it.

Daryl gets flustrated quickly because he knows Stiles wants to go to Beacon Hills and he knows that Rick does to, the way the other Sheriff had painted it walkers didn't come in a twenty foot radius of their town and Rick wants Judith to grow up right with real clothes, real doctors, hell even real food they have to add so much water to her formula that its already to thin to be doin more than fillin her belly, and he knows that Carl deserves it to, deserves friends that aren't adults and deserves to not have to carry around a gun and have that steel glint already ingraved in his eyes. Knows that Maggie and Glenn deserve a real wedding, exspecially after Woodbury. He knows Carol deserves a house where she can knit and clean. The fact of the matter is he doesn't want to share Stiles. He had to kill Merle. Kill his own flesh and blood because Merle had his modified arm to Stiles' neck, a gun to Rick's head. Daryl's had family before, but he's never had family like Stiles, family that would die for him again and again and not flinch. Like Rick and Carl who are like cousins. He couldn't let them die. Merle said his piece, said he was standing with the govener who had hurt Glenn, molested Maggie.

He can't share Stiles, he's the only brother Daryl's got left.

"We're going." Rick's voice is hard and edged in steel and Stiles feels a deep well of hope and excitement and he turns to Daryl grinning and Daryl's...Daryl is so not happy. It's not that Daryl is a really touchey person, but when it comes to Stiles it's like he's decided that he's not going to let him out of his sight, not anymore, not since Merle. "you don't want to go." Stiles' voice draws the others eyes and Beth leans forward all puppy like and Carl slides up beside Stiles. "why not?" Carl's voice is sharp in an imitation of his dad's that becomes more and more his own each day. "It ain't that I don't want to, but what if this place is like Woodbury?" silence answers him and Stiles feels indignation on behalf of his hometown, but he knows Daryl's right the apocolypse makes strange shit happen in people's minds. Besides he knows exactly how obtuse his dad can be about shit (alphas anyone?) that happens in his town. "Then we cut and run." and it hurts so badly to say that, to say that he would leave his hometown, leave his dad when he finally makes it back, but these people are his family. He's ate with them, starved with them, hurt with them, and he's killed with them. He knows that's fucked up, it's just that he's let his dad down so many times, he can't bare the disappointment anymore. Not when he fits so well in his group, not when he knows that Daryl will take care of him no matter the costs to himself. He's never had a brother before but he knows that they don't all do that for their younger brothers. Daryl waits until Rick and Hershel go in a corner to discuss how their going to move them all before he speaks again eyes intent on Stiles' face. "you can do that? you won't have no problem droppin them?" Stiles eyes flash to Carl and then to Judith and he takes her from Carol and smiles. "yeah. yeah I think so." Judith lets out a happy giggle and Stiles smiles.


	3. Ditto

I posted chapters one and two like five hours before I left for work and when I got home I had two reviews. How fuckin great is this fandom? like you guys are awesome. I know Stiles and Daryl have this really weird relationship but they all have to depend soley on one another and they've had these terrible little encounters with other humans so they cling really tightly to one another, and Daryl only has Stiles left, Merle's gone and Stiles is the only one who really knew the real Merle. _

Stiles takes the three a.m. watch because he's to excited to sleep, it will take months to get to Beacon Hills, he knows that but his dad's voice makes him fidget like he hasn't since Daryl taught him to focus through pain. He let's his fingernails cut cresents into his palms and watches the sun inch it's way up the horizon while the others sleep. A low cry makes him move quickly and he takes Judith out of the makeshift craddle and gives her some of the last of the formula and walks back to the roof settling his legs over the side with the sated baby. Half an hour later Beth pops her head up through the door. "Carol made mush." Stiles made a face at the other girl and she let out a snicker. "maybe your town will have real food." she sighed dreamily. "I would give anything for a cheese burger." "curly fries." Stiles hears the words explode from his lips more than he feels them come from him. "I used to love curly fries." used to but he can't even imagine the taste in his mouth any more. He passes Judith over to Beth and pulls himself up following her back down to the cell block. Daryl glances up from his spot on the steps and nods at a bowl sitting next to him and Stiles takes the invitation. Turning to watch Rick and Glenn pouring over a beaten map. "no we can't go through here." Glenn looks flustrated and Stiles realizes Maggie isn't in the room. They've all gotten a little overprotective of each other but Glenn barely sleeps if Maggie isn't within touching distance. "last time Maggie and I came through for supplies there was at least two big herds one here." he marked a small X on the map. "and one here, we would be boxed in both ways." and there's Maggie coming back in and without even seeing her Glenn's shoulders relax. "we could try cuttin in through the mountains, it'll be harder but I bet there ain't as many walkers up that way." Daryl cuts in setting his bowl down. "last time we stayed in the mountains we were safe for months. It might be that they can't get through all the trees and foilage."

Even being as excited as he is Stiles is no where near excited enough to pour over maps, instead he starts packing their collective meager belonging into the cars and the saddle bags of his and Daryl's bikes and Carl joins him not to long later looking disgruntled and finger his gun eyes darting over towards the fences now and again. "do you think he was telling the truth?" and Stiles doesn't need to ask to know he means Stiles' dad. "he doesn't lie, my dad's a sheriff, just like Rick." Carl is silent for a moment lifting a bag full of harshly washed clothes. "Dad lies. All dad's lie when they think it means their children will feel better." and Stiles feels his throat tightening and phantom tears that never fall. "and Children lie to the parents for the same reason." he says softly and Carl jerks just a tiny bit. "you killed Shane for your dad." and it's a statement. Carl looks away and he's got tears in his eyes. "he was already dead." They finish loading in silence with the acception of their bedding. "one more night here and then we'll leave." Rick's eyes dart around the temporary home he's set up for his group and Stiles tries not to feel dread mixing in with his excitement. They spent the entire winter running and chances are it's going to take even longer to get to good ole Cali and there's every chance that they'll run into more humans and they've learned it's not the walkers they need to fear, it's the humans who have adapted in a lawless world.

Dinner is spent in silence but it's not an opressive silence or an uncomfortable one it's just...silence. Stiles forgoes watch and settles down on his old mattress that's been pulled next to Daryl's watch spot. Carl of course hesitates a second before tugging their makeshift craddle over close and settling down on Stiles' mattress with him. "Dude." Stiles raised an eyebrow and Carl smiles making him sigh. "you kick me and your out." he grunts and rolls over pressing his face against Daryl's knee. For a split second thoughts cross his mind about co-dependancy and how frightenly bad they all seem to have it but then he's out.

Carl kicks. Carl kicks so much Stiles ends up literally on the cold stone floor curled around Daryl while the little bastard sprawls across his warm mattress wrapped up in Stiles' moth eaten and comfy blanket. "little jerk." he grumbles and tries to sit up his back protesting with dozens of ridiculusly painful cracks. Daryl snorts and shoves him off so that he's on the floor again with a grunt. With a few grumbles about how unfair life is Stiles gets moving and makes his way towards the smell of hot oatmeal that's a bit better than subpar as a send off. Carol smiles and hands him a bowl and their little kiddie spoons and he eats in silence next to Hershel who's rubbing absently at the side of his leg right above where it was amputated. Carl shows up sheepishly half way through and Stiles wrinkles his nose at him and with the excuse of checking the fences he goes out and leans against a wall with one of his few cigerettes inhaling deeply and holding it before he expertly lets it out in tiny tight little circles and he's inhaling again eyes closed when a rough hand pops him in the back of the head and steals his cigerette. "We ain't got no doctors if you give yourself cancer." Stiles watched sadly as Daryl took a long drag and crushed it under his boot. "your killin me, your the one who keeps stealing my damn cigerettes and you smoke them to!" Daryl snorted "I ain't gonna die from one drag, you on the other hand breathe that shit in like it's air." Stiles made a face and leaned back against the wall shifting his hair out of his face and noting that it had begun to curl around his collars. "what if we get there and their gone? they could get over run in the time it takes us to get half way across the U.S." Daryl shifted up beside him. "they lived this long with out us,I figure they can wait another month or two, besides your dad sounded like he had his shit together." Stiles gave a grin "yeah dad, dad's always been really awesome, he wasn't around much after mom died but he always put up with me." and that had been difficult enough before the werewolf shit.  
"you ain't that hard to put up with." Daryl's voice is rough and Stiles has to smile. Stiles' smile fades and his eyes fall on the fence. "you don't want to leave." Daryl gives another shrug. "I don't want to be on the road again no, but we can't stay here, Rick's right the kids deserve better then this, and Maggie and Glenn deserve to get married, hell you deserve a normal life to." "and so do you." Stiles murmered.

He doesn't like Shane, the man's got this edge of crazy around him that Stiles knows to well, he's a good man but he's not built for pressure and Stiles knows with out a doubt that it won't be long before he starts to break. It's a hundred times worse when Rick shows up and Stiles feels the need to be angry on Daryl's behalf, after all the asswipe left Merle handcuffed defenseless to a roof. Still Rick has his head on straight, he can talk the entire group down and he makes good decisions. Not to mention he takes them back to save Merle. The hand though...Merle's hand makes his stomach turn in ugly ways and when Daryl wraps it up he can't help but brush roughly at the tears gathered in his eyes. Maybe Merle wasn't as close to him as Daryl, but Merle had excepted him into the Dixon brothers duo and made it a trio, most brothers Stiles knows of from Beacon Hills either hated each other or they fought like crazy even when they liked one another. The Dixons maybe don't get along so well all the time, but they would kill or be killed for one another, and Stiles has never been given devotion like that for all the times he's given it himself. Daryl steps shit up just as fast he hunts, he takes care of the group and he protects them like their all he has left, and Stiles he doesn't let Stiles go further than twenty feet away from him in the begining and Stiles figures he's just protecting the only person who really knew Merle besides Daryl himself.

"Alright guys load up!" Rick orders taking Judith gingerly from Carol and loading her into the carseat Glenn and Maggie had found on their last run. He's no longer scared to touch his daughter but she so tiny, Stiles is almost ninety-seven percent sure that Judith is malnourished, they have to thin her food out so much sometimes that Stiles worries she won't survive if they stay anyways, they've already raided all the places nearby and they would have to go even farther out on the next run just to find a place that might possibly have baby food. Carl jumped in next to his sister, the ever dutiful big brother and Stiles' heart goes out to him, he knows how Carl feels, knows that he blames himself for Judith not having Lori around, knows he thinks he has to fill in for her now. Carol takes the passenger seat and Glenn and Maggie get in their little foreign car behind them. Rick hesitates for a second before walking over to Stiles and Daryl. "I need one in front and one in back you guys, that way we should be able to cover our bases, we don't want to get half way there and run into a bunch of walkers or get snuck up on while we sleep." "I'll take the back, Daryl can do lead." Daryl shook his head. "If you take point and run into trouble Rick'll be on the way, you get behind him and nobodies gonna know to come back for you." "yeah and if you take the back and you run into trouble you won't call for help, I sure as hell will." Stiles leaned over to his side bag and tugged out a worn radio. "I salvaged these from the prision." he tossed one to Daryl and dug another one out for Rick turning the channel. "They have batteries and I have a few more they won't last long, next time we stop for a run make sure to keep an eye out for more." He grinned at the smug, nearly proud look on Daryl's face and the grin on Rick's. "We can do this guys, we're gonna make it." Rick breathed deeply and headed to the driver's seat of the van. Daryl reached over and wrapped his rough hand around Stiles' thin wrist and squeezed. "Be careful, you get in trouble you sure as hell better call." "Ditto."


	4. Fresh Squirrel and uninsured motorists

Stiles' ass hurts by the fourth day. Not that he wasn't expecting that, but still he can't help but shift uneasily on his seat. He waits until Daryl's voice crackles on the radio and he has to club off a walkers' head when the noise startles it and he makes a face at the old blood that splatters his face and neck. It's only his third of the day though so he can't complain to much. "We got a clearing about thirty miles ahead we can stop for lunch there, I don't reckon you caught anything Stiles?" Daryl's got a smirk in his voice and Stiles can feel his own answering one his hand touching the five plump squirrels dangling on a rope against his side. "jackass you know I did, and by the way I found your arrow, what did the great Daryl Dixon miss?" "...hurry the fuck up." Stiles snorted and tucked the radio back into his side bag restarting his motorcycle with a roar and the walkers at the edge of the woods groaned low and turned towards him. It never really stopped being creepy, no matter how many times he'd sat up all night by himself on watch with them just below and behind the fence, no matter how often he knocked a head off or felt one cave under the weight of his bat they had still been people at some point. He couldn't think of them as real people any more though, that ment that he was not only a murder, but that he was murdering people who in all likely hood deserved a final resting place. He gave a shudder and gunned his motorcycle, thirty miles for Daryl ment ninety for Stiles.

By the time he finally pulls up his ass no longer hurts it's settled into a kind of numbness that's horrible and even worse is the stiff legs and back. Although on the plus side by the time he actually gets there Daryl's already cooked a sparrow and six of his own squirrels (not quite as fat as Stiles' own he notes in satisfaction.) and that's awesome because he gets to snitch a few pieces of everyone elses while he cooks his own. "what the hell took you so long?" Daryl's voice is amused but his eyes are roaming over the dried blood that Stiles didn't even try to wipe away (that shit smears into your skin and it's even harder to get out later.) "I wanted to look badass when I road up so I stopped and ate some raw squirrel and rubbed it on my face for dramatic effect." he forces his voice to be completely deadpan because not only has he seen Daryl eating raw squirrel (he tried it once and it wasn't completely awful) but he's seen him not bother to clean his face and the result really did make him look badass. Daryl flipped him off and Stiles and Carl snickered. "No seriously though I ran into a walker ninety or so miles back when I slowed down for the radio that's all." because Daryl was worried and Stiles can't not answer. With a sigh he stretched out across the hard ground next to Glenn and then leaned up jerking the former pizza delivery boy's leg out to cushion his head. "Dude." Glenn huffed and Stiles smiled angelically in response. "Do you see this?" Glenn asked Maggie exasperated. "It used to be all the time, the boy has no boundries." "I have boundries, it's just very difficult to get to them." he muttered and Glenn huffed while the rest of the group laughed. "my poor abused ass." he grumbles eyes sliding closed.

When he wakes up it's to the smell of freshly cooked squirrel and the sun's ducked low enough that he knows they won't be moving any more. Daryl's boot digs into his ribs a little bit more and he grunts "motherfucker what?" "Well princess since you decided to take a nap it's your turn for watch now get your mangy ass up." Stiles grumbled and grabbed the hand Daryl extended. "i'm not mangy, I maybe have some fleas but that's completely the squirrel's fault, I think they climbed up the rope." he scratched at his to long hair and Daryl rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles towards the watch point settling on a makeshift bed beside him. Stiles kicked his boots up in the back of the van knocking off day old dirt and flakes of dried blood.

The first time Stiles takes watch with the new group he's edgy, it's different when it's just him, Merle,Glenn and Daryl there was only four of them, Daryl wakes at the drop of a hat and Stiles knows if he screws up and falls asleep that Daryl will be up and that he'll make sure every things ok. With a big group however, that means Stiles is responsible for a lot of people. Not to mention it's completely dark and Stiles has to strain his eyes because even the smallest amount of light could bring down a herd of walkers on them. It's when he's getting close to being so nervous that his hands shake around his bow and arrow that a rough hand snakes up and wraps painfully tight around his jittering leg tightening and just staying there and when Stiles looks over Daryl still looks like he's asleep but knowing he's aware makes his heart slow down and his limbs stop jerking. Knowing Daryl's still got his back regardless of how tired he is and how long he's already been on watch himself.. he can't see Scott doing that for him.

When Hershel limps over for watch Stiles is already exhausted again, it's like there's not enough sleep to be gotten just like there's never enough food to be eaten. It's an undercurrent they all carry, their always tired, and their always hungry a deep well of despair that never quite goes fully beneath the surface. At first they kept Hershel off watch as much as possible, no one wanted him to be attacked and not be able to get away, then he had informed them in no uncertain terms that he could see, hear, and shoot a damn sight better than the rest of them and he sure as hell knew how to open his mouth and yell a warning. After that they didn't feel so bad, and it's not like Stiles doesn't take every opportunity he gets to sit during watch. He gives the older man a subtle nod and heads to the open spot that still radiates warmth in between Rick and Carol and grunts when his back aches. It's getting stupidly ridiculous how old he feels when he spends days riding and nights on watch.


	5. Beacon Hills

Ok this one is just a little looksie at Beacon Hills since the walkers took over.

Scott can hear the fuzzy hum of the radio through the wall and he watches Derek and Chris talking almost to quietly for him to hear to the Sheriff. It hurts every time Scott even sees Stiles' dad because without Stiles it's like...missing a limb that he's never even thought he could miss. It's worse because he doesn't even know where Stiles is at. It's not like the world around them is completely distroyed, Beacon Hills had their fence up before the zombies could get within a hundred miles. Scott can feel a smirk on his face at the thought, Stiles was the one who would have been completely prepared for the apocolypse he had been making plans for it for years. "Scott?" Allison's voice broke him from his thoughts and she settled down beside him in the sheriff's station garbed completely as a hunter as she always seems to be now her bow unused on the bench beside her.

They've known since the begining that they got off lucky, Deaton is insuring the zombies stay out with his will alone and that means beyond a few stray ones the hunters encounter while their out they've barely seen them. Scott and Derek's pack haven't really been out either, they're to scared to admitt it but Scott knows that he's not the only one scared of what will happen if they get bitten, being werewolves means they fight close up and the chances of them turning into zombie werewolves is to high. That had been Derek and the Sheriff's decision, Chris had called in the entire Argent clan and they (minus Allison of course) had been all for leaving the werewolves out in the cold and Scott's almost positive that it's only because he was Stiles' best friend that he's still in town at all. "Their trying the radio again." Scott muttered eyes focused on the window between the meeting room and the hall. Allison let out a huff. "They've been trying the radio for months I think if there was any other towns out there we would have heard from them." She says something else but Scott's frozen because already he can hear a man's voice through the wall and he pulls Allison into the room without an explanation and the freeze while the man speaks a rough southern accent booming through the speakers and then suddenly another voice comes out, a voice Scott would know anywhere. "Dad! dad it's Stiles over." the voice is shakey and it almost sounds like Stiles has developed a little bit of an accent of his own but he also sounds almost scared. Scott's hand finds Allison's and his eyes find Derek's. If there's one other person who's felt the loss of their pack mate it's Derek who's life Stiles had saved more than once.

It takes the Sheriff a moment and he looks like he's going to have another heart attack but eventually while everyone else holds their breath he speaks "Stiles? Stiles are you alright? you aren't hurt are you son?" he takes a deep breath "over." there's another second of feedback before "i'm fine is everyone ok dad? Scott? Derek? Lydia? hell Jackson? over" and that's so like Stiles, to even ask about the person that made half his life miserable. The sheriff speaks faster this time and Scott wants the radio himself but he knows better than to try and get between the two. "we haven't lost anyone, Deaton set up a fence made of some kind of wood and it's keeping them away over." and Stiles has to know what that is. "Nobody?" and that is so not Stiles, the voice is deeper and more accented and it's sounds half disbelieving and half pissed. "over." it adds. "Who is this? over." The sheriff's face wrinkles in confusion and the bitter smell of saddness fills the air. "Daryl Dixon Stiles is still here, you haven't lost anybody? over." and there's a demand in that voice and Scott can hear faint voices on the other side talking hushed to each other. The Sheriff gets switched over again to the first man who's name is Rick and who apparently was a Sheriff before the zombie apocolypse and Scott can tell Stiles' dad feels better knowing his son is with a law man. Rick tells them they'll start moving out the next morning but the transmition is short and clipped and then it's back to the low hum of static.

"He's alive." Scott feels the words explode from his chest and Derek's face twitched "he should never have left in the first place." but even Derek looks worried. "he had every right to leave." Lydia's voice was just as scathing as it had been before the zombies took over "you were a terrible best friend and you were a terrible alpha." Ever perfect even with little to no makeup left her heels clicked ominously on the tiles. "Aren't you supposed to be at the school?" Allison asked quickly even as Scott felt his eyes flash and felt Derek's anger like it was his own. He hadn't had much reason to keep refusing Derek as his alpha, and it felt...good to have someone like him connected to him despite how much the link made him wish that it was Stiles he was linked to instead. Lydia had taken over teaching the younger children when the kindergarden teacher had taken off, the sheriff, Chris, and Derek where doing their best to keep things as normal as possible and that ment the high school was still open, unfortunately all the remaining children where crammed inside and even worse Harris still ruled over them all. Scott often felt bad for the poor impressionable children who would have nothing but Harris to look forward to for not just four years, but twelve.  
"We let out early, the fun part about being a teacher." she sighed down at her designer jeans. "Terrance Andrews threw up on my skirt, it's not like brand names grow on trees any more." "Stiles is alive." Scott blurted and felt his face redden when Lydia turned unimpressed eyes on him. "of course he is, I thought we were working under that assumption already." Allison shook her head. "No Lydia, the radio worked. Stiles answered." Lydia's eyes widened "Did someone tell his dad?" "the sheriff was there." Derek shifted uncomfortably when she directed her gaze at him. He had no choice but to adapt to being around so many people but he still would rather hide out in his ruined house than speak to real people. "Well where is he?" she demanded sharply and Scott felt a weight on his chest. "They didn't say, all they said was that they were coming."


	6. Ten fingers, ten toes

I'm going to change the format on this chapter because I have been getting complaints that the others are harder to read, I'll try to change the first five but I'm not to sure when I'll have time so just bear with me guys, and thank you all so much for the awesome reviews!  
Also short chapter is short.  
_

By the time they reach day twenty-two they aren't just exhausted, they've settled back into how they were before the prison when they could barely keep food down and sleep was

one of the rarest treats they could get. They were already in tune but when they're on the road...it's like they're one giant mind and shit just clicks for them. Still the only thing that's

actually semi-ok is that when he's back behind the others he can smoke as much as he wants without Daryl stealing the cigarettes out of his mouth. Seriously who does that?

Other than that travelling sucks some major dick. He's covered in blood and dirt and they've gone through a heard of walkers just yesterday that had Stiles calling for Daryl over the

radio and by the time they were all gone and everyone was positive they weren't bitten or scratched the sun had been going down and almost a full day had been wasted.

That being said when the walkie talkie crackles Stiles has never been more glad in his life for the break and he tries to keep the old lady in her bathrobe in his vision when he slows to a stop. Daryl's voice blared over the speaker. "there's a phone tower up ahead, if you want we could try gettin through a message to that other Sheriff." Never Stiles' dad

because for co-dependancy related reasons that rubs Daryl the wrong way. "alright, thanks Daryl, Stiles you want us to wait for you?" Stiles hesitated before a small smug smirk crawled

over his face. "No just use the same frequency as the walkies and I can hear, I'll catch up as soon as I can."

He waits until the radio crackles and someone picks up immediately, Stiles would have had someone on radio watch to. "This is Derek Hale Over." and Stiles can't help but snicker and

lift up his own radio as Rick says his little introduction speech again. "Derek Hale said more than two words in a sentence! over." because how could he not tease the sour wolf when

he hasn't seen him in over a year? There's a radio silence and then "shut up Stiles. over." but there's humour in it and Stiles can't help but grin wider before he hears the scruff of feet and

lets his motorcycle roar back to life. There's a solid line of trees twelve or so yards out and as soon as the noise starts so do the walkers there are dozens already down most with arrow

and bullet wounds but a few are crawling and Stiles is distracted enough to not hear Rick give out their coordinates and it's not like it matters where they are anyways, they'll get there

when they get there.

He has to cut in when Derek starts talking about boundaries and the last walkers he'd seen because fuck if those dozens haven't multiplied drawn by the sounds of bullets

from before "Daryl I need you." and he doesn't bother with over because he doesn't fuckin have time he's barely scratching by and then Daryl's coming over the radio "where are ya?"

and there's no over in that one either. "at the mile marker you already passed through they must have heard the guns." not that it matters because he's popping off shots while he rides.

"Daryl's on the way Stiles, do you need us?" Stiles snorted into his radio. "We can handle ourselves Rick you get on to gettin we'll catch up." Daryl barked instead and then Stiles sees

the redneck and he pulls his bat off and starts swinging. The bike is barely getting past the junkyard worthy heap of cars and Stiles can hear Derek over the radio "what the hell is going on

over?" but he ignores it in favor of saving his own ass even as Daryl lets arrows fly. It's an amazingly short little fight, but then Stiles and Daryl can read each other well enough to not

have to actually speak when they fight and he barely feels a slimy hand on his jeans before a crawler is taken out with an arrow to the head. Stiles tugged the arrow out and sped up to

ride level with Daryl as they passed up the rest. He tossed a grin at Daryl and raised his radio. "we're good." and Derek's over the radio again before Rick can speak. "what the fuck

was that Stiles? over." and Stiles blinks startled. "Have you been talking this whole time? over." "That's enough." Rick's voice is firm and unyielding and Stiles knows Derek's not gonna

like that so he speaks before the alpha can. "are you still stationary? over." Rick gives an affirmative and Daryl speeds ahead. "you two alright? over." because Rick knows they

won't tell unless he asks. "ten fingers, ten toes over." this time it's Daryl who snorts. "kid almost lost a leg cause he was payin attention to the damn radio over." because Daryl would chop

Stiles' leg off before he let him turn or die (or technically both.) "but as I said before ten fingers ten toes, so it's all good in our neighborhood. over." he turns his radio down after that

and redirects his focus into catching up with the others because Derek's still demanding answers and Rick is being placating (which sounds like he's talking to baby Judith and Stiles

suppresses another snigger.)

When they do catch up its to pull over for the night and Carol flutters around them with dingy bandages and wraps while Rick gets the camp in order. Daryl stares. Then stares

more because he's unpredictable like that. Stiles' sharp "what?" makes him blink. "I don't think I like that kid on the radio." and the novelty of Daryl calling Derek a kid is a very shiny

bright thing but instead of saying that Stiles slumps over next to Daryl under the other man's poncho. "he doesn't have the best personality." he agrees softly and lets out a yawn. "I want a poncho." because Derek and Daryl haven't met yet and anything done to prolong that war is of the good variety. "I'll check the next store." because even Daryl knows what he's

doing he knows why he's doing it to. It is true though Derek had almost sounded...worried? worried for Stiles? which was impossible, Derek had never really liked him anyways.

More than likely it was a territorial thing. Of course that ment when Stiles did finally fall asleep it was to dream about a wolf in a leather jacket and a pit bull in a poncho pissing on him.


	7. Beacon Hills 2: Derek

My formatting is shit guys i'm sorry, like all the time I'm all virused up and on Notepad and i'm sorry (she says from inside the shame box.)  
hope you guys like this one, it's beacon hills again.  
(0:

They have someone posted by the radio at all times even if the Sheriff doesn't want to actually initiate contact, they don't actually know how bad it is

out there and theydon't want to be a distraction so the entire town seems to be frozen waiting for word, most people are excited about Stiles, but

more are excited about seeing someone from outside their own safety bubble and hearing about what's going on in the world. Derek can't help but

wonder if Stiles and his friends had run into any other people, any towns, hell any werewolves.

He can dream...

He's not expecting them to call on his watch, it's nearly dark out and Derek had assumed they would have made camp by then but he's glad to hear

Stiles' teasing voice over the line as the entire pack and the Sheriff fall in the room listening anxiously. He listens blandly to the other Sheriff and when

Stiles suddenly cuts in he feels his heart drop because,Stiles is the one who was so insistent on protocol anyways and the urgency in his voice when he

calls for 'Daryl' is pretty much over powering. Still hearing 'Daryl' reassure the other guy,Rick, that they can handle themselves makes everyone let out a

collective sigh. At least until they hear gunshots and quiet curses through the radio and they all wait in thinly veiled worry for Stiles' quick and easy

"We're good." and Derek can hear the laugh in his voice. Derek of course is impatient and he barks through the radio again hoping this time for an

answer and Stiles of course has to be a smart ass. "Have you been talking this whole time? over." and Derek is on the verge of snapping over the radio

(Stiles always does that to him.)When the other Sheriff snaps out his own little "that's enough." and Stiles...Stiles listens, Stiles doesn't even listen to

his own dad usually and Derek blinks and sees the Sheriff glower at the radio, anything that cuts off his son's voice is a bad thing in his eyes. Instead

almost instantly Stiles is all business "are you stationary? over." and Rick give a quick "yes." and then what everyone in Beacon Hills is really waiting

for:"You two alright? over." but Rick he doesn't sound overly worried at all more demanding than anything and the alpha inside Derek

growls at someone giving his pack mate an order in any way but he waits anxious himself. "Ten fingers, Ten toes. over." Stiles announces proudly and

everyone huffs in relief. There's a rough snort and then "kid almost lost a leg cause he was payin attention to the damn radio over." and that just

makes Derek feel guilty because it was his voice asking impatient questions while they fought. "but as I said before ten fingers ten toes, so it's all good

in our neighborhood. over." Stiles' voice is still cheerful but that's the last they hear from him Rick takes over and then it's radio silence.

Scott finds him when Jackson takes over the radio and the beta is twitchy and nervous and a hint of sadness plays at the edge of his scent. "you don't

think that happens a lot do you? them getting attacked?" and Derek has to sigh and rub a hand over his face. "I don't know Scott we haven't been out

there in that, they have so maybe they know how to avoid them." and fuck if the image of walkers isn't creepy enough. Give Derek rouge uncles or

unruly betas any day walking dead people...that's disgusting. "We can only hope not." "It still doesn't feel real you know? to have Stiles not be here

and to hear him fighting." Scott grimaced and Derek mentally sighed. When the beta wanted to talk about his feelings he was nearly impossible to stop.

"Stiles can handle himself, you heard that yourself, and he'll be here soon. Don't you have border patrol." he adds sharply because Scott is getting

feelings all over the fucking place. The beta blushed mumbles an excuse and takes off leaving Derek to wonder.

What if they did fight every day, what if it was worse than they had originally thought and it wasn't just communications down? what if the entire world

was just...gone.


	8. Squirrel is keepin you alive

So I have a direction for the next few chapters, and they do know where they're going it's just taking a long time because walkers are an infestation so...  
anyways don't forget to review guys and thanks for all the love! and again sorry about my formatting i will continue trying to fix it until it does get fixed.  
Also for The-Riddle-Heiress who's review brought tears to my eyes! have a speedy recovery and enjoy those pain meds!

Stiles gets his own fuckin poncho. unfortunately Daryl finds the only poncho in the entire post apocalyptic world that is purple, yellow, and green.

Seriously, it was made for the purple teletubbie. Still Stiles wears it until it turns brown and by their twenty-ninth day on the road he can almost blend

in the trees so he figures it's not so bad despite the little irritating smirks that Daryl sends his way every time he catches sight of Stiles. Not to mention

it is way easier with the bow because he can fling it over his shoulder and fire arrows one after another without having to worry about anything else,

although he suspects that Daryl only wears his so he can continue to go sleeveless, the man's committed. Either way Stiles is pretty glad to get on the

road when they hit the big three oh, it feels like a major milestone just to be climbing on his bike after a month of travelling. They're almost there,

a small trip around New Mexico (which is packed full of dead people and the whole worshipping the dead thing is not lost on Stiles.) and up through the

Colorado mountains makes it stretch out super long and they have to stop for food, water, and to find places to sleep for the night, not to mention the

frequent walkers that manage to clog up the roads because apparently traffic is a thing even during an apocalypse. Still all they have left is a short trip

through Utah and Nevada and they'll hit good ole Cali, after that...after that is going to be an adventure.

It is hard to stay excited though when Stiles spends the majority of the trip back behind the others half hunting half riding. The only thing that makes it

bearable is knowing Daryl is on his own up ahead to, that and the walkie talkies, even if it does seem nearly impossible to keep batteries and gasoline

is getting more and more limited. Still when he takes a break for lunch (half cooked squirrel from the night before, but at least it's not raw, Stiles'

stomach can only handle so many raw squirrel lunches regardless of how often Daryl calls him a pussy.) and he smokes an entire cigarette

uninterrupted with no Daryl plucking it from his lips and no walkers trying to eat his face off...he's feeling pretty good. He radios in that he's on his way

and after a second of static Rick's voice comes on "hurry up Stiles we got an infestation." and Stiles can't help but grimace because of course the

second he thinks things are alright shit goes down. Still he speeds up and it barely takes ten minutes to find the group and park his bike by Daryl's,

they can usually hide from walkers when there's a big group but this time around the entire bridge is covered and the only way over is through and

despite that no amount of hacking seems to be clearing them out. "We gotta be near a city!" Maggie yelled from beside Glenn and Stiles knows she

more than likely right which means that the walkers are only going to multiply the closer they get, the cities are like breeding grounds for the undead.

"Fuck this!" Daryl's voice is right behind him and the redneck shoves Rick's shoulder "Get in the car and drive through we'll meet you on the other side,

if we gotta scavenge a new car we will, there's to many!" and then Carl's pulling Beth in the car and Hershel's following and Glenn and Maggie are

already powering through and Stiles hears their windshield crack when a toddler flips on to it. "JUMP!" Daryl barks and they both hit the water at the

same time without Stiles consciously agreeing to do so. The walkers aren't going to mess with their bikes and while the others find a safe spot Daryl

and Stiles spend the next few hours creeping through sludge and muck to double back and Stiles can't help but smirk. "what? what the hell about this

is funny?" Daryl snarls and Stiles looks pointedly down. "my poncho ain't purple." and Daryl has to shake his head.

They make it back but not until after dark and they have to go slow inching along so that the walkers don't follow them back to the camp and Stiles

can barely stand the smell of himself (although he tells himself that Daryl smells worse) and even though water is preciously rare they still get to use

nearly a whole bottle of water on a bath each because they just stink that badly. "that had to have been sewage." Carl grumbled pushing at Stiles

when he sat down with his little tin camping plate. "hey, we saved your ass dude don't hate." "did you save me to kill me with your stench?" he

quipped and the younger boy grinned widely when the entire group gave laughs (except Daryl, they got to stick together.) Beth smiled

behind her hand. "maybe you two could take first watch? downwind." Hershel added and Daryl scowled getting up and walking into the woods. Carl

frowned "we were only kidding." he told Stiles earnestly and Stiles blinked. "Daryl knows that. He just doesn't like his own smell." he smiled easily and

got up to follow the hunter clipping his walkie talkie on his belt loop glad that he was at least a little dryer. Daryl walks fast but Stiles can keep up with

him better than anyone else. "dude, they were just kidding you know that right?" Daryl scowled again. "I know." he said shortly and Stiles frowned

deeply before realization dawned. "your worried about the upcoming city." Daryl nodded again. "maybe we could scout it tomorrow, let them stay here

til we know how bad this city is." Daryl doesn't walk in anywhere blind if he can help it, not since Woodbury. "we'll ask Rick when we get back, now we

should catch us some grub." because anytime Stiles tries to talk 'southern' Daryl smirks and Stiles would rather have a smirking Daryl, as irritating as

that is, than a scowling one. "I see tracks." and they spend nearly half the night tracking a deer and when they actually get it Stiles can't help his grin.

"I totally slowed him down for you." Daryl clicked his tounge. "her, and no you didn't." "I so did, and who cares if it's a he or a she it's dark ok, and any

kind of lunch other than squirrel is good by me." Daryl shook his head and readjusted his grip on the deer. They each had an end to keep the blood

trail to a minimum, last thing they needed was a walker after their deer. "Squirrel is keepin you alive kid." Stiles rolled his eyes "yeah yeah, better

appreciate em' I know."

Rick is super agreeable when he's full of Deer. Stiles makes a point to keep that in mind for later because not only does he ok

them to go off into the city he sends Glenn to so they can do a supply run for diapers. The homemade cloth ones only go so long when you don't have

enough time to wash them. Judith is almost ready for more solid foods, she mostly eats the mush they don't eat for breakfast or the occasionally

scavenged apple sauce that holds up really well travelling. Judith is super awesome travel wise, she knows to be quiet when guns start going off and

she's generally just a happy baby. Still when Stiles sees the nearly empty town he's thanking god but when he sees the little rag doll he knows he's

gotta get it, Judith doesn't haven't any toys, it's already packed in the car but..a ragdoll can be held and it's in almost perfect condition dropped by a

panicked kid when dead people started coming there's a tiny smudge of blood on the corner but when he shows Daryl the man shrugs. "she ain't had

no problems with her blanket." and Stiles has to blink because what does it say about him that he hasn't noticed blood on a baby's blanket? His life

really. There's another City up ahead because Stiles can see buildings from the rooftop of the little town's bank but they worry about moving the group

from the woods over instead of wondering about another infestation, if they can move from place to place fast enough they'll be in Utah before the next

week starts, or at least what they assume is the next week. It isn't exactly easy to keep track of the day's any more. Stiles takes first watch and waits

patiently for everyone to be asleep before he elbows his way over to the radio. "anybody there?over." he waits a beat and then "Jackson over."

and Stiles snorts because the jackass can't even say it's Jackson, who the hells he think he is Madonna? "Everything's really alright there? no one died?

over." Jackson's voice crackles and there's something almost soothing about the irritated tone. "no more than usual for Beacon Hills, we have farms

started up but we're holding out really well. over." and maybe that's exactly what Stiles needed to hear because he feels the tension in his shoulders

leak out. "Thanks Jackson. over." and he puts the radio back and settles down with the shotgun content.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH h

Seriously i'm proud of this one it's way longer than I thought it would be and I want to as always encourage everyone to update and also to thank everyone who has updated, you guys are totally the . Also next chapter They'll be in Utah! and there will be a small time skip, just a few days.


	9. Utah

Stiles is barely aware enough to make out Glenn's face over his own when the Asian decides that they've spent enough time apart. "seriously Stiles I

haven't seen you since we left the prison, it's like you disappeared behind us and never catch up until it's night fall and no one wants to talk." Which is

true, exhaustion is a common theme for them when they finally make camp. "That was the agreement dude, Daryl leads and I'm in the back. Gotta keep

your Asian ass safe don't I?" Stiles bared his teeth in a grin that was more grimace as he tried to get up with stiff legs. "Besides it's not like we have

time for call of duty anymore." Glenn rolled his eyes subconsciously glancing over towards Maggie. "I know but… we could do a run together." Glenn

grinned triumphantly. "Glenn we're like literally twelve miles away from town, and besides that Daryl would never agree to that, and neither would you,

you can't go ten seconds without Maggie." Glenn's grin turned into a frown. "And you can't go ten seconds without Daryl." Stiles snorted inelegantly "I

ride almost twenty to thirty miles behind you guys and that means I'm either forty to sixty miles behind Daryl so I think I can handle going ten seconds

without my big brother." Glenn smirked "oh yeah, then where's Daryl right now?" Stiles rolled his eyes. "I don't know taking a piss I guess." And of

course Daryl picks that moment to come out of the woods tightening his belt. Glenn sent him another smirk up until Stiles aimed an arrow and then

Daryl was yanking the bow roughly out of his hands. "What the hell you aimin at the china man for?" "He's mocking our dependency issues." Stiles

huffed and when Daryl raised an eyebrow he sighed and flopped down in the dirt leaning against Daryl's legs.

"Alright guys, we're about three days away from crossing into Nevada." Rick's voice is tight and it gets just a little tighter every mile they come closer to

Beacon Hills. They all have trust issues and Stiles can't even blame them for not automatically trusting the town just because he vouched for Beacon

Hills, after all Merle had been in Woodbury and that had ended…not well. "the city is less than a day away, and we know it's going to be a walker

breeding ground, we're going to try and skirt the edges, that means that Daryl and Stiles are going to have to both take lead and go in opposite

directions one around each side of the city, when you guys find the safest way you radio back, and do not under any circumstances take risks, we don't

need to draw more into the city then it's probably already got." Stiles nodded and he assumed Daryl did to from his spot against the hunter's legs.

"When do you want us to start out?" because come night fall it would be pitch black and Stiles hates to admit he's scared, but well…there are dead

things looking for some Stiles sized snacks out there. "Not until tomorrow you two go all the way around and meet here." Rick leans over the map

briefly to point out the spot. "Mile Marker seventeen, radio in every hour or so if you can, if you can't we'll be expectin trouble out your way. I want to

do this as quickly and as quietly as possible and that means that we kills as few walkers as possible." That doesn't seem to sit well with Rick but then,

it doesn't sit well with Stiles either. "so.." Stiles said slowly "we wouldn't happen to have any more deer for lunch?" Daryl snorts from above him and a

squirrel drops down into his lap and he sighs. "Fuckin course."


	10. Around Utah and Scott

They leave before anyone other than Rick is fully awake, hell the sun ain't even all the way up

right then and Stiles kind of hates the world (but then he's hated it since dead people stopped staying

dead even before the apocalypse.) and they switch to another radio frequency so that they don't have

to stop talking while they ride and they keep up a steady commentary about how many walkers they

take out and also Stiles is pretty damn proud when he takes down a very large raccoon, up until Daryl

tells him the damn thing more than likely has rabies but at least if there are any walkers close on his tail

they followed the tossed raccoon carcass instead of the Stiles' shaped carcass. Not that he sees many,

when it comes to cities they've discovered that the walkers stay concentrated around the center, things

like grocery stores and outlet malls seem to draw them and Stiles muses about his theory of it being a

memory related thing. Although considering their dumb enough to run into fences and to not be able to

turn door knobs he's not holding out hope for that.

When they do switch back over its nearly lunch time and Stiles has some actually cooked deer

meat (because of course there really was some and people just wanted to watch Stiles chow down on

raw squirrel the assholes.) and he's been pretty clear the whole way, Daryl he knows, has run into about

five but like cockroaches where there's one there's thousands more waiting to come out of the

woodwork. Either way they're almost to the edges because they can see the different sides of the same

buildings as they start to thin out. "I'm gonna radio in that we're almost through Utah." Rick's voice

startles him enough that Stiles almost falls off his bike and chokes a little on his deer. The closer they get

the more precious the radio seems to be, it's like they don't actually believe their making it there and

that only talking with someone from the other town inspires them enough to keep going. Not that Stiles

minds, that just means he gets to talk to someone from home more and more often, although almost

two days before when Rick tried they hadn't been able to get a signal and connect but with them all

so close to a city Stiles has no doubt that they'll be able to reach the others. Either way he waits

anxiously for someone's voice to come out crackled over the speaker his eyes scanning the tree line.

He's anxious because the closer they get the more he can't help but wonder about how closely Beacon

Hills can be compared to Woodbury and those thoughts turn his stomach so much he finds himself

tucking his deer away and instead reaching for one of his precious cigarettes.

Rick goes through his little "this is Sheriff Rick Grimes." Speech and when a voice answers Stiles

is glad he isn't eating. "This is Scott McCall where are you guys? How's Stiles? Are you guys running into

a lot of zombies? Over." And Stiles can't help but laugh "I got this one Rick over." "alright Stiles but

don't sit still too long. Over." And Stiles smiles because no one's told him to not sit still since the day he

was born. "affirmative Captain. We're just passing around Utah we should be out in less than a day,

after that we have to get through a small piece of Nevada and we'll be in good old Cali, and I'm fine

by the way Scott, it's good to hear your voice dude, and we don't actually call them zombies. Over."

Scott laughed over the radio. "you, Stiles Stilinski, you don't call them zombies? You were reading for

The zombie apocalypse before we actually knew what zombies were. Over." And then before he could

Answer "and it's really good to hear your voice to dude. Over." Stiles can't help his mild wide grin.

"I wasn't as prepared as I thought, and we call them walkers. Cause they walk. Over." Scott snorts and

Stiles wants to tell him to pull his face away from the radio when he isn't talking but he doesn't because

it's comforting almost. "of course they walk what are they supposed to crawl? Over." And Stiles sees

one of the first ones he had seen in his mind's eye, half formed and moving with single minded purpose

towards him and he's glad no one's around because shit like that…it fucks with you. "they crawl to.

over." And then he sees one just on the edge of his eye, an old man fat and swollen with a purpled face

That probably hadn't changed much from when he was alive, he looked the type to be disgusting either

way. "Rick just saw my first one over." And he shoots it with his bow restarts his bike with a low roar and

brings the walkie talkie up to his mouth. "meet you soon Daryl over." Because he needs to focus and the

faster he moves the faster he gets back to Beacon Hills and all these walkers become fading night

terrors.


	11. To Hesitate

It takes a ridiculously long time to get to the meeting point and when they do actually meet up it's already past night fall and Stiles is dead tired (pun intended.) and they make

a little camp for themselves. Daryl takes first watch because he's the awesomest person ever and Stiles curls up beside him warmed by his formerly purple poncho while they wait for

the others to catch up. "We should switch when we get close." Daryl's rough voice startled him into jumping but like a good older brother Daryl doesn't mention it beyond a smirk.

"They know you best, if I pull up there they might shoot me faster than ah can talk." Stiles raised an eyebrow because while that's entirely true, even more so if Chris Argent is still running

the town under his dad's nose it isn't like Daryl to admit that there's something someone else can do that he can't, it just isn't in the redneck's nature. Still Stiles can feel how irritable that

plan makes Daryl even as he says it. "why don't we all meet up a mile or so before we get to town and ride up together, if they plan on shootin anybody it'll make a harder target."

Even though he really doubts his dad would let anyone shoot him, Stiles knows what it feels like to have people they don't know invading their camp.

"Yea, that might work." but the tensions eased out of Daryl's shoulders and Stiles knows that it had to have been bothering him for awhile. "I bet they don't eat squirrel for breakfast."

Daryl snorted. "prolly only for dinner." and after that Stiles falls asleep.

He's on watch when he sees the group coming up and he shakes Daryl awake trying not to snicker when the other man goes for his crossbow. "look who finally caught up."

he yelled toward Glenn when the Asian climbed out and Maggie rolled her eyes when her boyfriend flipped Stiles off. "what don't hate cause your slow dude." he chirped and Glenn

groaned. "how can you possibly be this awake when you had watch?" "cause i'm not a pansy ass. Besides me and Daryl usually do the bulk of watch anyways, welcome to our world."

"alright boys." and if Rick's voice isn't the most aggravated Stiles had ever heard it he would eat squirrel every meal raw for the rest of his life. The man looks ready to start pacing the floor

and Stiles shoot a glance over at Daryl who just rolls his shoulders in the way of his that means 'deal with it.' "Somethin wrong?" Hershel grunts shifting over onto the tailgate slowly.

Beth as always flutters anxiously around her dad and Carl stands resolutely by his own dad shoulders back and a hand on his pistol. "Someones followin us." and instantly everything

freezes. Stiles breathes deeply "Rick, if someone was following us, I think I would have noticed I've been behind most of the way." The former sheriff shook his head. "No, this didn't

start until late yesterday, I thought it mighta just been me imagining things but." "but I found this." Carl pulled a blood stained piece of gauze out of his pocket and Stiles blinked.

"Carl dude, put that down there could be diseases on that shit." and Carl blinked twice and dropped it making a face. "I forgot about those." he admitted shuffling nervously and wiping

his hands on his pants. Rick's face said he had to. "If they been followin us that long why didn't you say somethin?" Daryl grunted eyes scanning the woods. "I don't know how many they have,

I figured we could regroup up here and decide what to do." meaning of course that they could regroup and wait while Stiles and Daryl back tracked until they found their stalker of course.

Rick's face apologized but his body langauge didn't give a fuck. "Riggght well I guess we'll head on back." Stiles said slowly and picked up his bat securing it against his back and taking

his bow tightly enough that his knuckles turned white. Rick wanted them to go back and take care of it, meaning if there was a human who ment to harm them, Rick wanted him gone.

"this is bullshit." and he's whispering but Stiles' voice still echos back at him and sounds a thousand times louder than it is and you would think with all the time he spends out

int the woods he would be used to that by now. "Stiles." and Daryl's growling better than any werewolf Stiles' has ever known. "I know." because he does, no one else in the group

could handle killing a human except for Rick and Carl, but even those two would hesitate, would want to hear the other person's side of things and Stiles and Daryl...they just

didn't give a damn.


	12. Veggies?

SHORT sorry really I tried and I promise the next one will be very long this is just a little spacer.

They do find a person but he's already dead grabbed by a walker and they put an arrow through it's head and while they don't make a grave they do leave a marker, even

if they had time for a grave before nightfall, which they don't, it would have had to have been shallow and the walkers would have smelt the fresh body, and Stiles has to admitt

anything that's a mild distraction between their group and the undead...it's not exactly a bad thing. He would wonder about the kind of person that made him if he hadn't already known.

Stiles had long since made his peace with being an emotionless terrible person. You do what has to be done in a war, and his life had been a war since the day Scott was bitten, the

only difference was the war had evolved and as one of the main players (at least in his life) Stiles evolved with it.

They share some rabbit and when Stiles mutters about missing vegtables Daryl offers him the rabbit's stomach. "I bet there's some veggies in there." "you're an ass." but

Stiles can't help but smile back. They make it back before nightfall which is a first and Stiles hopes that means good things are coming and not bad. Either way everyones anxious

to be in California already if only so that they can see that humanity hasn't become as twisted and terrible as they think it has. Stiles doesn't tell them that humanity hasn't actually changed

much. It was twisted to begin with. 


	13. Freakin Nevada

They make it to Nevada before day break and Stiles is getting more and more nervous the closer they get, he can feel the familiar thrum of his ADHD in his very bones and his whole body seems to be shaking. He isn't the only one who feels the nerves, Daryl sharpens the same arrows twice and he keeps man handling Stiles almost violently. Which is normal but usually he doesn't do it unless there's trouble close by or something.

Rick's keeping a close eye on Carl for once, not that the kid needs it because Carl's already loaded and reloaded and cleaned his pistol and he's nervously holding Judith like she's the most priceless thing in the world (and she is to them.) Carol nervously moves around making their nightly mush of whatever the hell they could find added to what little meat Stiles and Daryl could dig up. Beth is by her dad curled up in his side while he reads nightly from the bible and they all silently listen.

Stiles doesn't say that he thinks God has abandoned him but he knows from Daryl's face his brother agrees to the silent thought.

The bad part about Nevada though is that Stiles wakes up before the suns even half way up because the walkers have a shit load of flat land that's barely got any cover and they just sort of keep stumbling into the camp ground. They even look for the best shelter or the emptiest building in the best condition and the damn things still just walk right in. He's actually coming back from the bathroom (also known as the woods) when the walker stumbles upon him and Stiles is dirty enough that he stand perfectly still and the walker goes right past. Seriously he's that gross and walkers are that dumb. Either way it makes Stiles hate Nevada, it's hard enough to get drinking water, it's not like they can just stop and take a shower in a house with no working water. Nevada sucks.

Stiles is still muttering to himself when he gets back to his bedroll that's practically on top of Daryl's and the redneck raises and eyebrow from where he's laid back with his hands behind his head. "Fuckin Nevada." he muttered and dropped down using Daryl's stomach as a pillow. "Can you believe that I smelt so bad that a freakin walker went past me?" Daryl snorted "Coulda told ya that." "yeah well there's a big difference between being told that I smell and having an undead creature stroll past me because I smell like death itself." Stiles huffed and Daryl snorted "go to sleep."

The next morning Stiles spends about half an hour cleaning in a thin stream he comes across and the others follow suit, maybe they aren't quite as disgusting as Stiles is but being clean makes everyone feel better and they spend the rest of the day cleaning clothes and themselves and just staying close to the water. Then it gets cold again because it's Nevada and it isn't enough that it's hot all day but it has to be cold all night. Everyone sleeps far to close together and Judith cries on and off in her little box/craddle and Stiles wakes up and takes out two walkers and then Daryl wakes everyone up to leave when four come in at the same time.

It really isn't a bad night at all. So when the next morning dawned warm and bright Stiles didn't even mind riding behind everyone else, it was peaceful and every now and then he would come across a bird singing and even a butterfly fluttered by during his ten minute lunch break (fish from the stream thank god.) All in all it's a nice day until he feels rancid breath a little to close to his neck and he jerks forward and away from the rasping walker's decaying hands and yellow fingernails. He shoots it. Normally he would beat it with his bat or decapitate it with his knife but he's startled, it had been such a nice easy day that he had been complacent.

"Shit." he hissed outloud and his hand shake when he roars off.

Not to much longer guys! I know it's been awhile but I hope I can get back in the swing of things and don't forget to review!


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